Deore Waldpuan
Bellefonte, Pa., July 20, 1894.
m—
THE SONG OF SHIP.
The sky made a whip of the winds, and lashed
the sea into foam,
And the keen-blowing gales tore the flags and
the sails of the ships that were plunging
home ;
Of the ships that were tossing home on the
black and billowy deep.
But who shall reach to the wrecks, the
+ wrecks, where the shipsand their cap-
tains sleep ?
Q, wrecks, by the black seas tossed,
In the desolate ocean nights !
Lost, lost, in the darkness ! lost
In eight o’ the harbor lights'!
The sky made a veil o' the elouds, and a
scourge o’ the lightning red, :
And the blasts bowed the masts of the ships
thas fared where love and ithe sea gulls
ed; 2
Of the ships that were faring heme with love
forthe waiting breast ;
But where is the love that can reach to the
wrecks where the ships and their cap-
tains rest ?
Oh! skips of our love, wave-tossed
In the tathomless ocean nights !
Lost, lost in the blackness ! lost
In sight o’ the harbor lights ?
There was once a ship of my soul that tossed
o'er a stormy sea.
And this was my prayer, when the nights
gloomed drear : ‘Send my soul's ship
safe to me!
Send my soul’s ship safely home, from billows
and blackened skies !”
But where is the soul that can reach to the
gspiry the deptns where my soul's ship
ies ?
Oh ! ship of my soul, storm-tossed
In the far and the fearful nights,
Lost, lost, in the blackness ! lost
In sighto’ the harbor lights !
— Frank XL. Stanton in Atlanta Constitution..
AFTER FIFTY YEARS.
What a fine evening it is! The
lilacs are in bloom again. The moon
shines down on the river just as it did
on the last night I was here, fifty years
ago. All these streets and buildings
seem strange. At that time a country
road passed through here between
stone walls and trees and meadows.
The tavern where me had the tall that
night was a handsome building, then I
have stopped there many a time for re-
freshments when boating, It is de-
serted, ruined, gradually sinking into
the river now. The lovers row by on
the other side of thestream. They say
the old house is haunted. It was a
fair picture that evening, with light
pouring out of every casement, and
lanterns hanging on the veranda over
the river. I wonder if you remember
itall?
You smile as though you had not
forgotten it. Why do I epeak of it
now? Well, almost fifty years have
passed. It does not seem very long ;
still, we are both old now, and what
harm can it do—a little talk of days
gone by ?
Yes, it is nearly fifty years since [
have seen you. Your hair under that
little lace cap is as white as snow.
Then it was black and glossy as
jet. You had no wrinkles then.
Your cheeks were smooth and white.
There was a dimple in the left one.
Your eyes did not peer out of gold-
rimmed glasses then. They were
bright as stars—dark blue, sparkling
with merriment. Your figure is a lit-
tle bent, but you were quite tall then
for a woman, and graceful. I thought
you were queenly. Indeed, you were
the prettiest girl in all the land.
What, are you blushing? Well, it is
true. Ican close my eyes and see you
in my soul as you were then, as sweet
and lovely as a water lily. You have
never changed there.
I remember the first time I ever
saw you. I was walking through the
shady streets of the little town. I
passed by a grand old mansion. I
saw beneath a great elm what I
thought was a beautiful angel. It was
you lying on the lawn. You had on a
pink gown. You were reading, and
when you heard my footsteps, you
raised your eyes and met mine. We
were both confueed. I walked away
feeling as though I had entered a new
world. After that I thought only of
you. You told me afterward that you
were reading a romance of a handsome
young prince, tall, fair haired and dar-
ing; that when you looked up and saw
me, you were startled, [ was so like the
ideal you were dreaming of. Do you
remember ? :
I hurried back to my uncle's home
beyond the town, and eagerly qules-
tioned my cousing concerning the beau-
tiful vision I had seen. They toid me
that vou were the governor's only
daughter ; that you were but 18 years
of age, but that you already had sev-
eral suitors for your Land. They
warned me not to fall in love with you,
as a handsome young officer of the
garrison nearby, was said to have won
our heart. I found that you were the
elle of all the land.
This information only made me love
you more. I felt eertain that I could
not live without you. I could not im-
agine that anyone else loved you as I
did. Every afternoon after that I rode
to town in order to pass by the govern-
or’s mansion. During the evenings I
paraded back and forth on the side-
walk like a sentinel, and all the time I
kept repeating your name. During
these feverieh eveninge it was not very
consoling to note the regular appear-
ance of a visitor, nightly paesing under
the trees the doorstep. When the
door opened I could see his tall, erect
figure standing in the light. Then the
door would close and there would be
sounds from the open window of laugh-
. ter and music. I knew that the wvisi-
tor was the young officer. He and I
were introduced one day in the town,
and I remember how, seemingly by
instinct, we conceived a deep antipathy
to each other. Even on our first meet-
ing we approached close to the border
of insulting language. He was a
handsome, dashing fellow, I was
forced to confess. Splendid, soft, dark
eyes and a heavy, silken mustache
were his two most seductive attrac-
tions, To know that this hated but
dangerous rival was enjoving a tete-a-
tete with the beautiful girl, whom in
my unreasonable love I already re-
garded as my sweetheart, while I was
a —————— — ——————— a —————
obliged to promenade the sidewalk
alone, seemed very bitter and cruel to
me.
A week passed before I saw you
again. I was riding along the high
banks of a river where it curves like a
horseshoe around some meadow land.
I was gazing down at the waters
dreaming of you, when I heard a
sound of laughter and of horses’ hoofs,
I looked up and was startled to see
you riding toward me, in the company
of several young ladies and gentlemen.
My handsome friend tbe officer was
among them. My heart beat violent-
ly and my face flushed as I passed
closely to you. Ycu wore a dark
green suit, and your face was so white
tbat I thought at the time you were
like a water lily. It was then that I
noticed your long black lashes. I
could scarcely see your eyes. You
told me afterward that you peeped at
me and that you thought I looked like
a gallant knight on my spirited horse.
Do you remember ?
I was so excited that day that I
could scarcely eat a mouthful. My
uncle asked me if T had seen the gov-
ernor’s daughter again. He was a
wise man—my uncle
It was not long afterward that you
and I became acquainted. It was ata
party that I attended with my cousins.
You were there. I saw nothing elge
that golden night. You were dressed
in cream colored silk. Your beautiful
white arms and shoulders were bare.
You wore a necklace of pearls, and
you wore yellow roses pinned to your
dress. I was dazzled by your beauty
when you entered the room, and when
I was presented to you I lost all con-
tol of myself. I stammered and tried
to clasp your hand, stopping in my at-
tempt abruptly ; but you, smiling kind-
ly shook hands with me. You told
me afterward that you were a little
confused yourself, that you could
scarcely speak at first. Do you re-
member ?
It was astonishing, though, how
soon we were eagerly conversing.
Our thoughts flowed on together like
two brooks that meet in the forest and
go dancing together through sunlight
and shadow. It was that night that I
thought that your eyes were as black
coals, and that I noticed how fresh and
red your lips were. That bright even-
ing fled so fast that I did not realize
till the affair was over that I had en-
tirely monopolized the society of the
belle of the evening. When I bade
you good night as you left the com.
pany with your parents, I noticed a
young man standing in the hallway,
with a gloomy expression on his hand-
some face. It was my friend the offi-
cer, and he gave me an ugly look.
Little did I care for the officer’s anger.
I was mad with happivess that night.
What dreame, what fancies filled my
soul! You say that vou, too, were
transported that night. I wish I had
known it then !
The next afternoon I met you down
town as you were coming out of a shop
to enter your carriage. We stopped
and talked, and I arranged to call on
you the next evening. It was then 1n
the bright sunlight that I wae sur-
prised to discover that your eyes were
dark blue, instead of black.
How well I remember that first eve-
ning when I called on you! I could
not sleep the night previous, I was so
excited. The day passed tediously.
I attired myself with great elaboration,
and an hour before the time when I
had agreed to call. I was restlessly
pacing the streets glancing at my ap-
parently motionless timepiece ; but the
important hour arrived at last. As I
entered the gate my courage began to
fail. I feared lest some more favored
suitor might already be installed, and
I should prove an unwelcome intruder.
I wondered who would open the door,
whether a servant or some member of
the family. I dreaded lest it should be
the governor himself, for I suspected
that he did not regard me with favor.
The great watch dog barked savagely
as I walked toward the house. You
bad laughingly assured me that he
was always secured to a strong post.
I mounted the stairs with a bold step,
rang the bell fiercely, and waited in a
state of nervous dread. How agreea-
bly was I surprised, and how com-
pletely were my fears dispelled, when
you opened the door yourself, looking
perfectly beautiful in the lighted hall-
way. Your cheeks were slightly
flushed, and your eyes were as bright
as stars.
you increased a hundred-fold. There
were other members of the family pres.
ent. Your aunt was always in the room,
but still we were together, and I heard
you play on the harp and ging for me
several sweet old ballads. As I
wzlked home that night my soul
seemed to mount amocg the stars.
‘The next night, as my cousin and I
were passing by your father’s grounds,
I heard the sound of merry laughter
from the gayly lighted house and I dis-
tinguished plainly the bated voice of
the young officer. I accompanied my
cousin to call on a young lady, a
wealthy banker's daughter, but I was
miserable the entire evening. I
seemed to hear you playing on the
harp and singing love songs to the
dark-eyed officer. I did not admit it
then, but I wae intensely jealous of
the handsome fellow. You say that
you were jealous of the banker's
daughter? Yes, I know I called
there several times, but it was to
please my cousin. I never fancied
her. She was too loud and boisterous
for my taste. So you were jealous,
were you ? I never thought of that.
Do you remember the boat ride on
the river? It was theonly time that
we were really alone. Maybe you
don’t imagine how near I came to pro-
posing to you that day? Do you say
you half expected several times that
I would ? Well, you were right. The
truth is that I had decided at the first
opportunity to tell you that I loved
you. I thought that the boat ride
would be the very occasion, so with
mingled hopes and fears I looked for-
ward to that eventful day. I cannot
tell you how many times I rehearsed
my part in the expected drama, nor
That evening my love for
what beautiful speeches [ had prepared
never to be uttered. Yet I regarded
that little journey up the winding riv-
er as the brightest episode in my life.
As I rowed along, I could look at you.
You sat in the stern and had on the
pink gown I liked so much. We
passed by weeping willows, dipping
their branches into the water; the
cemetery in the woods on the hill, and
aod the mysterious island with its
deep woods. We did not talk much.
Your eyes were cast down most of the
time, as though you werein a pensive
mood, but occasionally I saw them
glance shyly at me. I don’t know
why I should have been so sure, but I
felt positive that you loved me, and I
was on the point of telling you how I
adored you a dozen times as we pro-
ceeded up the still river. At last I
rowed into the little streamlet which
met the river in the woods. Green
leaves were spread over the quiet sur-
face and pure white lilies floated here
and there. The light was soft and
and subdued. I felt my heart beat
violently. I trembled, and I know
that my face was pale as I leaned te-
ward you and seized your little hand
in mine. :
Just then we heard voices in the
woods. You snatched your hand
away instantly, as two ladies, one of
them was your aunt, appeared at the
bauk of the stream. They were de-
lighted to see us, for they had lost their
boat and would have been compelled
to walk several miles, but for our
timely appearance. We humbly took
them in as passengers and I rowed
back down the river in the twilight.
talking to your aunt and her friend in
as entertaining a manner as I could,
while you reclined in the stern, silent
but occasionally smiling slyly at sorae
of my efforts to sustain a conversation
with the two ladies. We all walked
up the hill to your father’s gate, and I
was obliged to say good bye without
telling my wonderful secret.
Soon after that a grand ball was to
take place at the tavern. All the
country was excited. I sent you an
invitation and waited anxiously fora
reply. I feared that your parents
would not approve ot me as your es-
cort, even if you should be so kind as
to prefer me to other suitors who
would doubtless extend you an iavita-
tion. More than avything else, I
dreaded that the charming young offi-
cer would be the favored one, When
I rode to town for the mail on the day
following I received a dainty little en-
velope. I opened it with trembling
fingers, but I rode home feeling in the
gayest mood, for the little note said
that its beautiful writer would be
pleased to accompany me to the grand
ball at the tavern.
Do you remember that a few days
before the ball you were taken ill with
a fever. When I heard that my love-
ly partner was sick, I called at once.
You told me how disappointed youn
were because, although you felt well
enough to go, your mother, you feared
would not allow you to attend the ball.
I was sorry enough to give up the idea
of appearing there with the governor's
beautiful daughter 5 but I agreed with
your mother that it would be danger-
ous to your health to go. I cheered
your sad spirits all I could, while se-
cretly I resolved that, instead of at-
tending the ball myself, I would spend
the evening with you, and if the
chance appeared, that I would ask you
to be my partner forever, whether you
were sick or well.
The night of the ball, I was later
than I expected in departing for town.
The tavern was gayly lit up, and its
roof was shining in the moonlight. I
was 80 eager to see you that I did not
even stop to take a glimpse of the as-
semblage, but rode rapidly away be-
yond the sound of the music. When I
arrived at the gate of the governor's
mansion, I was surprised at the
gloomy appearance of the house ; not
a light could I see. I dismounted,
hurried to the door, and rang the bell.
There wae an appalling silence.
Twice more I rang the bell and waited.
No one came to the door. Almost
paralyzed with astonishment and won-
der, I mounted my horse and started
back on the road to the tavern. 1 felt
certain that you would not have been
left sick and alone in the house.
Horrible superstitions tortured my
heart as I rode along faster and faster
till I reached the tavern. I rushed 1n-
to the building and took one glance in-
to the ball room. The brilliant assem-
blage and bright light dazzled me for
a second. A dance had just ended
and all were promenadiog in confusion.
Suddenly, directly before me in full
uniform I saw the young officer with
you leaning on his arm. He was
bending his smiling face to yours.
Your cheeke were flushed and your
eyes as bright as fire. You were
dressed in purest white. When I saw
you, I felt my heart turn icy cold;
sharp pains crossed my chest. Beads
of perspiration stood on @my brow,
The shock of your treachery was very
cruel. I turned staggered out ot the
tavern, and, mounting my horse, rode
away, feeling as though I were in the
midst of a frightful dream.
And now you say that they made
you believe that I was glad you were
sick so that I could be tree to escort
the banker's daughter! You say that
you loved me, and that, stung by jeal-
ousy, you insisted on your parents tak-
ing you to the ball; that there yon
were joined by the officer. You say
that when you saw me at the ball
room door, aloe, dusty, pale distrac-
ted, you realized how terribly you had
been mistaken ;that leaving the cap-
tain you ran to detain me, but it was
too late. No, I never heard of all that.
I crossed the seas, and fought in for-
eign armies, and reared a family in
foreign lands. I heard but once from
home. They said that you were to
marry the officer. I tried to forget
you. I became rich and honored, but
never happy. I have lived that night
over a dozen times, bitterly regretting
that I did not wait to hear your explan-
ation. I am old, feeble, white haired
to the world, but in my soul I am still
the hot-headed lad of fifty years ago
and you are the governor's beautiful
daughter, It will always be so. |
What |—are you weeping? Never |
mind. We can’t understand these
things. I must go now. Your hus
band I hope he is well? What is
that? You say that you never mar-
ried? And it has been fifty years!
Ah, me! We can’t undesstand. I
must go back to my hotel. It seems
exactly like that night. The lilacs are
in bloom, and the moon shines on the
river ; but these buildings are strange,
and the tavern is old and ruined.
They say—and it is true, I know—
that it is haunted.— From Romance.
Awful Absinthe.
Its Chief Ingredient Is Wormwood, and It Poi-
sons the Body and Burns Away the Brains.
During the Algerian war, which last-
ed from 1844 to 1847, the French army
were more in danger from African fe-
vers than from Algerian enemies. Sev-
eral things were tried as antidotes or
preventives by the skillful army phy-
sicians. Finally absinthe was hit on as
the most effective febrifuge.
The soldiers were ordered to mix it
in small quantities three times a day
with the ordinary French wine. The
luckless happy-go-lucky privates grew
to like their medicine, which at first
they swore at bitterly for spoiling with
its bitterness that beautiful purple vine-
gar they fondly fancy is wine. But
when absinthe began to usurp the time
honored place of claret in the effections
of the French army the evil became an
unmixed one.
Absinthe straight as a beverage isa
direly different thing from absinthe
mixed as a medicine or an occasional
tonic. The victorious army on their
triumphal return to Paris brought the
habit with them. Itis now so wide-
spread through all classes of Parisian
society—and Paris gives the cue to
France—that Frenchmen of science and
publicists regard the custom of absinthe
tippling as a vast national evil.
The consequence of the usc—and use
of this drug ripens to abuse, even with
men of unusual will power--has been
in France disastrous to a dreadful de-
gree. Many men of remarkable bril-
liancy have offered up their brains and
their lives on the livid altar of absinthe.
Baudelaire, who translated all Poe’s
works into French, had a terribly gro-
tesque passion for the pleasant green
poison. In one of his mad freaks this
minor French poet actually painted his
hair the same tint as the beverage that
corroded his brain, possibly from an
odd fancy to have the outside of his
head correspond with or match the in-
side.
Alfred de Musset, who was the French
Byron, plus a tenderer, naiver touch,
also fell a victim to the drug after
George Sand gave the final smash to his
fragmentary heart. Guy de Maupas-
sant is reported to have burned his
brains away with the same emerald
flames. The brain disease caused by
this drug is considered almost incurable.
Far worse that alcohol or opium, it can
only be compared to cocaine for the fell-
ness of its clutch on poor humanity.
Yet we take it occasionally as an after
dinner settler of digestive debts in this
country, and quite often as an appetiz-
er or tonic before meals, while in New
Orleans, throughout the older quarter,
little cabarets, devoted almost exclu-
sively to the sale of it are quite com-
mon.
What, then, is this dreadful drink
composed of, and how is it made ? The
answer is easy ‘enough, though the pro-
cess, to insure perfection in the evil, is
not so, Absinthe may be technically
described as a redistallation of alcoholic
gprrits (made originally from various
things—potatoes, tor instance), in
whieh, to give it the final character,
absinthium with other aromatic herbs
and bitter roots are ground up, or mac-
erated, in chemist lingo.
The chief ingredient is the tops and
leaves of the herb Artemisia absinthium
or wormwood, which grows from two to
four feet in great profusion under culti-
vation, and which contains a volatile
oil, absinthol, and a yellow, crystalline,
resinous compound called absinthin,
which is the bitter principle. The al.
cohol with which this and the essentials
of other aromatic plants are mixed holds
these volatile oils in solution. “
It is the precipitation of these oils in
water that causes the rich clouding of
your glass when the absinthe is poured
on the cracked ice—double emblems or
warnings of the clouding and the crack-
ling of your brain if you take to it
steadily. Thus every drink of the opal-
ine liquid is an object lesson in chemis-
try that carries its own moral.
Some barroom Columbus, ambitious
to outdo Dante and add another lower
circle to the inferno, recently invented
or discovered the absinthe cocktail. A
little whiskey—the worse the |better—a
dash of bitters, a little sugar and pldnty
of iced absinthe make about the quick-
est and wickedest intoxicant in the
world.
The continued use of absinthe gives
rise to epileptic symptoms as an exter-
nal expression of the profound disturb-
ance of the brain and nerves. One
large aose of the essence of the worm-
wood indeed had been noted as causing
almost instantly epileptiform convul-
gions in animals. But the drug is not
without its uses from a broad point of
view. As the name implies, it isan
anthelmintic, or a pretty sure cure for
certain kinds of animal life that some-
times infest the intestines of man, caus-
pain and death. This peculiar property
was well known to the Greeks, who had
a wine infused with wormwood ~alled
absinthites.
In some parts of Germany wormwood
is used in lieu of hops for the brewing
of certain brands of beer, and it unques-
tionsably has valuable tonic properties.
Absinthe is made almost everywhere,
except in the extreme tropics, and the
New York variety isjust as good—or
bed—as any. The duty on French ab-
sintheis very high—$12 a case of a
dozen bottles.
The first effects of it are a profound
serenity of temper and a slight height-
ening of the mental powers, coupled
with bodily inertia. This is the genera)
rule; but, as a famous physician once |
remarked of a dreadful disorder in his |
lecture room, “Gentlemen, the chief |
glory of the beautiful disease I am now |
explaining is tha remarkable variety of |
its manifestations.” |
Back from African Wilds.
Unheralded and unknown to those on
the pier, an unassuming young man
marched down the gangway of the
steamer Aller at New York lately. He
was William Astor Chanler, just re-
turning home after a three years’ ab-
sence abroad, 22 months of which have
been passed in the heart of Africa, in re-
gions never before penetrated by white
man. After a warm greeting from two
or three friends Mr. Chanler was driven
to the Knickerbocker club, where he
was seen during the evening. He said
this of himself : —
I am in excellent health with the ex-
ception of a sluggish liver, as the result
‘of two years in Africa, I have come
home hurriedly for family reasons, and
expect to remain here a few days only.
While my expedition has not been en-
tirely successful, owing to the deser-
tions of my men and a plague resembling
tetanus or lockjaw that broke out
among my camels and mules, I have
gathered a large amount of scientific
and geographical data which will com-
pose the report I propose to make to
the New York geographical society. It
is impossible now to enter into the de-
tails of my journey, I lost27 men from
disease and every bit of live stock that I
bad, I started with two horses, one of
which died soon after leaving the coast
at Hameye ; the other lasted for 11
months, carrying me every day until he
dropped dead, although we never went
off a walk. We averaged about nine
miles a day. After my horse died I
footed it.
The secret of successful exploration in
Africa is to keep by water courses. Al-
though I traveled over 3000 miles, the
greatest distance I peneirated from the
coast was about 700 miles, the circui-
tous journey being made to keep within
reach of water. My men generally be-
haved well until the pestilence attacked
the beasts of burden. Then they de-
serted in large numbers. I started with
about 200 Soundanese and Soumalese.
The latter are much more hardy and
faithful. Nearly a year was consumed
in explorations and geographical sur-
veys to thenorth of Mt. Kenia, and
then the homeward journey was begun.
We reached Zanzibar--that is, my faith-
ful servant, George Galwin, and I, the
only white men of the party,—toward
the end of March. After resting a
while we went on to Mombese, and
thence to Cairo, reaching there April
29, I then wenton to London, and was
called hurriedly home by a death in the
family.
This expedition, which has just been
so happily completed by the return of
Mr. Chanler, was considered to be the
best fitted out of any that ever left the
coast for the interior. It consisted of
150 porters, 20 headmen and interpre-
ters, 12 Soudanese soldiers, seven Somali
camel drivers, 15 camels, 43 donkeys, 10
oxen, 50 sheep, two horses and three
dogs. The necessary arms were provid-
ed by the Austrian war office, which
also furnished many scientific instru-
ments. The cost of the whole expedi-
tion was defrayed by Mr. Chanler. He
bas agreed to divide all geographical
and scientific data and collections he
has obtained between the Smithsonian
institute, Washington, D. C., and the
imperial museum, Vienna.
The Secret of a Life.
The Terrible Mistake of a Surgeon Ends His
Professional Expectations.
“A few years ago,” said Charles J.
Patterson, of Philadelphia, “I learned
the secret of the life of a man who had
passed more than a quarter of a cen-
tury” with scarcely a smile. He had
been a physician and syrgeon, and on
‘one occasion had to retnove an injured
eye in order to save the other eye and
prevent total blindness. The night be-
fore the operation he had been drink:
ing heavily with some friends, and, al-
though the following morning he
was sober, his band was unsteady and
his nerves unstrung.
‘After administering chloroform he
made a fatal and horrible blunder, re-
moving the well eye by mistake and
thus consigning his patient to perpet-
ual blindness. The moment he dis-
covered his error he turned the man
over to a competent surgeon, deeded
every thing he possessed 10 him, and
hurried from the neighborhood like a
convicted thief. The remainder of his
life was one constant round of remorse,
and he rapidly developed into a con:
firmed misaonthrope. I'he secret of
his life was know 10 a uwumber of peo-
ple, but when it was finally revealed to
me it explained a mystery and made
me respect the man, for however
grave was his original blunder, which
in some respect wag, of course, worse
than a crime his repentance was of
the most genuine character.”
Washing the Mouth.
If the people would wash out their
mouths twice or three times a day with
an antiseptie solution, there would
not be near so much sickness. In the
last 10 years I bave never had a cold,
gore throat or fever, and 1 ascribe this
immunity solely to the fact that I fol-
low this plan rigidly. There are any
number of proprietary antiseptics that
are excellent for this purpose, but many
more simple agents that are as good or
better. One of the best of the latter is
carbolic acid. A very weak solution of
this gargled and held in the mouth two
or three times a day will work wonders.
Immediately after using, one will find
that the mouth feels cleaner. I believe
that agreat majority of the common
throat and lung troubles come from the
lodgement of disease microbes within
the mucous membranes of the mouth.
The tree use of antiseptics will kill these
germs.-—St¢. Louis Globe.
THE WAY IT GOES.
When it's spring, you catch a cold;
Summer time, you're meltino ;
When it's winter, wood is scarce—
Sleet and snow a peltin.
When you've got the cash in view,
Plenty to befriend you ;
When you need a dime or two,
Not a soul to lend you !
When you're on the mountain top,
telescopes to spy vou;
When into the ditch you drop,
Whole world passes by you !
Ain't a bit 0’ use to fret—
Take it as you fiud it ;
Best world that you've been in yet—
Laugh and never mind it!
~ Atlanta Constitution,
For and About Women.
_ One of the newest caprics of fashion
1s an enormous tulle cravat forming a
fan like bow directly under the chin;
we believe this novelty is intended to
supplant the long bow and ends. and
assure our readers it is infinitely more
graceful and becoming says the Season.
Such cravats are chiefly worn over a
bolero, or open jacket. "In one of the
newest models of the sort, the vest was
trimmed with velvet of a totally differ-
ent color to the romainder of the dress.
Thus a mastic brown jupon and sleeves,
with striped mastic brown tunic and
bodice, was made with chartreuse
green velvet revers or fronts. The
same colors are repeated in the straw of
the flat shaped hat, on which black
feathers are placed in quite a new style
with the tips hanging over at the sides.
Another really charming dress was
made of shot, opal velvet with narrow
violet velvet stripes all the way down
the front. The bell skirt is then arrang-
ed in folds to look as if it went over the
devant, while the large bratelles further
carry out the same idea. A similar, but
far less expensive dress, could be made
in any light woolen material and trim-
med with colored braid in the same way
as this very beautiful, but costly model.
Here again little bat the trimming
is seen of the small bonnet, which is
edged with a wreath of pinks with a
center high bow of violet velvet. The
fashionable neck r:zche is made of
spangled black tulle, and may be taken
as a model of the many ruches and neck
ornaments which are again quite the
rage. Such ruches are worn with the
new linen dresses, as well as those of
lighter materials. Muslins in pink,
blue or lilac are delightful for summer
wear, and may be very prettily
made either draped or with double
skirt, and looses blouse bodice drawn in
under a velvet belt.
Miss Lucy M. Booth, daughter of
Generai Booth, of Salvation Army fame,
has command of the Indian forces of the
army, with headquarters at Bombay.
The Indian army embraces seven divi-
sions, subdivided into 21 districts, 122
corps and 293 outposts.
Cleanliness and comeliness are the
best recommendation virtue can have.
People are captivated by appear-
ances. It is not permissible to ask
questions, and as the individual has the
chance to make a favorable impression
she is unwise to miss it. A great many
good women would be attractive if
they took the trouble to be comely. The
more beautiful a good woman makes
berself the greater her influence.
Whatever becomes a woman makes
her comely, and first in the list is health.
Illness cannot be avoided, but not a few
of the common ailments are provoked
by vulgar habits of life—sloth, gluttony
carelessness and willful disregard of the
rules of health. Mothers amd teachers
do not act as fairly by their daughters
and pupils as they should. The hygiene
of the body is quite as essential on this
sphere as the soul’s salvation.
If cotton dresses are properly made
there is no reason why they should not
be washed many times. To make u
satines. and ginghams with boned
basques, heavily lined skirts and velvet
bound edges is an absurdity. Bodices
and skirts may be made together,
belting in by means of a draw ribbon,
which being loosened, reduced the
gown to straight lines without folds.
The frills and flounces about the
shoulders are all set on draw ribbon
headings and can also be let out flat.
The big sleeves are supplied with an
armhole set with a draw ribbon, by
which it is narrowed for wear and wid-
ened for washing. Serpentine bodices
arc used also for wash dress designs,
those bodices . being practically two
straight sasn pieces. There are no
bones. Lace, if used on these gowns,
is of good, heavy washable quality. If
ribbon is employed it is made into bows
easily adjusted and removed, or it is
used under insertion of lace or embroid-
ery, and so can be pulled out when the
gown goes to the tub.
Mrs. Rebecca T. Robinson, of West
Newton, Mass, is to defray the expense
of the erection of a new scientific build-
ing at Tufts College, Massachusetts.
Steam is destructive. Before it be-
comes an agent of power it must be
controlled, and so we build our water
backs and cylinders, our elevators and
locomotives, for great resistance. If
the face is to be properly cleaned the
force must come from within, where the
disease or disorder is. Keep the blood
pure and the circulation free, and the
complexion will take care of itself.
Apply pepultices to draw the inflamma-
tion from a spot. By rolling a patient
in woolen blankets and preserving an
even temperature the system will often
throw off a cold in the regular processes
of perspiration. A man will reiurn
from a bicycle ride in radiant health,
the exercise having literally renovated
his system. The same amount of heat
generated would, if applied to any por-
tion of bis body, have beeen an injury.
pa
LrARN T0 LAUGH.—This is the sea-
son for laughter. All nature is smiling
See if vou cannot put yourself in unison
with the gracious dame. If you don’t
know bow to laugh, and actually some
women seem to have lost the art, learn
it as quickly as possible.
Frown at the world and see how
quickly it will frown back at you. A
good bearty laugh is the best tonic
known. Tears have no place in genteel
circles. We astute ones have learned
that dewy eyes, ready at the slightest
provocation to overflow, are never allur-
ing outside of a novel.
Learn to hide your aches and pains
under a cheery smile. Few if any care
a rap for your physical ailments. A
dissertation upon the same will soon
place you on the list of bores.
Learn to tell a story. A reputation
for telling a pleasant yarn in pleasant
fashion will give you a big social
boom.
The world wants to be amused ; it
has no quarter to offer the croaker, the
grumbler, the disagreeable and dissatis-
fied ones of earth, but even in the hurry
and scurry of its workaday existence it
will stop to admire asunshiny man or
woman.
“
BR